


Immured

by Labyrinthine_Elysium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affection, Angel Castiel, Carrying, Crying, Crying Dean, Fluff, Holding, M/M, Macro/Micro, Owner Castiel, Pet Dean, Pet Store, Praise Kink, Scared Dean, Size Difference, but without the kink?, petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9606911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Labyrinthine_Elysium/pseuds/Labyrinthine_Elysium
Summary: Dean is ‘rescued’ from human society and is on sale for angels to purchase as a pet. The thing about angels though, their true forms are huge.i.e. Pretend you are an angel, Dean (and all humans) are about 6 in/15 cm tall in comparison.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lower reading level than my other stuff. There is a lot of Cas and Dean being kind of OOC. There is also no context explained in regards to how Dean was ‘rescued’, and I realize that, but to address it I would actually have to know and I don’t.

“He’s sooooo cute!” A little girl squealed, bouncing up and down. “Can I hold him?”

A woman read over the paper on the front of his cage.

“Let’s see. It says he’s a new rescue, sweetie. He’s not good around fledglings, yet.”

“But mooom-“

“No buts missy. March.”

And with that they were gone. Dean just wanted somewhere to hide. Somewhere better than curled in the corner facing away from the hustle and bustle of the store. His stomach hurts and his throat was dry, but he would have to go to the front of his cage to get to them. He could wait until the store closed and he didn’t have to worry about people sticking their fingers inside, trying to touch him.

“Hey there. Hi sweetie. I have someone who wants to say hi to you.”

The loud metal latch was pushed up and the door to his confinement opened.

“Alright, come here.” The lady cooed again, like he was a baby.

This was the part he hated. More than anything. He’d tried running, biting, scratching. A testament to that was the leather gloves the lady was now wearing.

“No. Go away.” He tucked himself into the corner further and pretended that that would make a difference.

A hand wrapped around him, the other under him. He was scooped up and promptly smooshed against the sale lady’s chest. A ‘secure’ position so that he wouldn’t fall, not that he would struggle while he was the equivalent of six stories in the air.

No. He grasped onto the material of her shirt as best as he could. He didn’t trust her not to drop him. He’d never been a big fan of heights to begin with.

“Oh my goodness. He’s so precious.”

Dean felt humiliated. In this brightly lit store, full of people ogling at him like he was nothing more than a pet, something to be owned.

“He is, isn’t he? He just got here a few days ago, but he’s already so popular. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s snatched up soon.”

“He is a rescue though?”

“Yeah.” The lady sighed, making Dean flail out from the sudden drop of her chest, but was kept pressed tight against her beating heart. “He’s super adorable, but he’s not used to all the attention.” She lowered her voice, like it was a secret. “I think he’s overwhelmed. With all the people and noises.” Cue the baby voice. “Making him act all grumpy.”

Her breath blows over him as she coos at him. Gross. 

They enter a room that Dean has learned to hate for every imaginable reason.

She sets him down in a small ‘play area’, as it has been called. It feels more like a fish tank. The sides are high enough that there’s no way he can get out.

He’s bitten enough people to know that he will probably be squeezed tighter and shook or squeezed tighter and then dropped. Being dropped is _not_ fun. 

The angel man who he’s supposed to spend the next who-knows-how-long with, is bald. Not that being bald is a bad thing, but this dude looks like wall street threw him up.

When the man tries to grab him, he flinches, which only serves to make the man pause before continuing. Dean bats the fingers away, fighting against the hands that feel like they’re consuming him. 

“Back off, baldie!” Dean yells at him.

He gets picked up anyway. He tries to bite, but it only makes the man hold on tighter, squeezing his chest, restricting his breathing, making him feel light-headed. 

He rubs Dean’s hair, holding him against his chest. He smells bad.

 

* * *

 

The man decides he doesn’t want Dean, and so back in the cage he goes.

The day is almost over, so the workers start putting bedding into the cages. This is Dean’s favorite part, the part where he gets to hide. They give him a fleece blanket and a padded dome that he can crawl into and hide in.

As soon as they put it in, he snatches them up and pushes them to the back of his enclosure.

He feels safer once inside. Hidden away. The blaring of the lights is gone, dimmed out to a calm glow that makes everything softer.

Dean wishes they didn’t take the cozy little hiding spot away from him every morning. 

Pushing the thought of morning way, he nuzzles into the clean, soft fabric and lets himself fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

Gentle talking and movements, pulls Dean out of sleep. Not all the way, just enough to be on the edge of consciousness. 

“Leave him in there.”

“You don’t want to hold him?”

“I can hold him inside there.”

Dean gripped his blanket tightly. He really wanted to keep it today. He wanted to stay hidden. He wanted to feel safe today.

He woke up more as he felt himself be swayed from side to side, up and down a little bit.

“He is a rescue, so he won’t be quite as friendly as other humans you may have met. But I think you’ll like him, I was afraid he might get adopted before you had a chance to come see him.”

“I am aware of the differences in adopting a rescued human, Anna.” Dean felt a slight movement. “May I stay here and visit with him for a while?”

“Yeah, Cas, of course. Store doesn’t open for a few hours.”

“Thank you, Anna.”

“No problem, Cas. Just holler if you need anything.”

With that, the air became quiet again. After a minute or two of rustling and shifting, everything was calm. And as Dean fell back asleep, he swore he was on a boat, hearing and feeling waves roll over him.

 

* * *

 

When Dean wakes up again, he surprisingly still has his blanket. He’s still in his fluffy dome bed too. Usually he would get a rude awakening, being ripped out of his warm, safe haven, to be put on better display were everyone could see him.

Maybe he just woke up earlier than before, which meant he could get some food before people came in.

Promising himself to dive back into his blanket as soon as he grabs some food, he sticks a foot out of his dome- and holy mother- That is not the ground.

Dean slowly raises his head, taking in what he really, really doesn’t want to see. Until he sees those eyes.

A tired face is looking down at him, smiling softly. An angel man. His eyes, his eyes were kind.

Dean raised his leg slowly. Before quickly darting into the furthest part of the dome, praying that giant hands didn’t pull him out.

A deep voice rumbled from above him, “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

_Yeah-freaking-right._

He’d heard that one before. Right before they manhandled him.

“Are you hungry?”

Dean’s stomach clenched. He was, but he didn’t want to do whatever the angel wanted in return.

Apparently, no response was expected, as giant fingers held a little piece of food pellet in the entrance of his dome.

Dean didn’t move at first, hoping the angel would drop it. After a minute of waiting, he decided that the man was really going to wait it out. So, Dean crept slowly towards the hand, before swiftly grabbing the pellet and dashing back, as far away as he could be.

He didn’t really know what was in the food, but it was delicious. It was surprising at first, especially given that it was literally in pellets and it didn’t look that appetizing.

A chuckle came, shaking him slightly. “Good boy.”

Dean felt his ears and face grow warm, but chose to ignore it in favor of his breakfast.

 

* * *

 

The man didn’t bother him for a long time. Long enough that Dean wondered if he had fallen asleep or left or something.

Dean poked his head out of the dome. The angel was just sitting there, staring off at something. Dean shifted around, leaning further out to see what the man was looking at. It was a book. He was just sitting here with Dean on his lap, reading a book.

“Would you like me to read to you?” Dean jumped and hid himself below the lip of the dome.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I won’t hurt you.” The angel promised. “I just want to spend some time with you. See if we can get along.”

Dean didn’t move from his position.

“I think you might enjoy these stories. They are from a human writer named McManus. They are quite humorous.”

The man went on to read the short story entitled The Modified Stationary Panic. Dean didn’t think he had laughed so hard in years.

“Should I read another one?”

Dean could think of nothing better. This was the best thing that had happened all week. So, he poked his head out of the dome, nodding and calling out his approval.

“Can I-“ The man pressed his lips together, biting them. “May I hold you?” Dean went stiff. “Just for one story.” The man quickly amended. “Then I’ll put you back.” He seemed hesitant to ask. “Please?”

The angel seemed sad, ready for rejection. Dean could pay him back a little. After all, he had been super nice about not grabbing him and even let him stay in his safe little dome way after the shopkeepers would have taken it away.

Dean wrapped the blanket around himself, not wanting to leave it behind, and made himself look at the man in the eye. He could only hold the gaze for a fraction of a second before he tore away, but he still nodded his head. Yes.

The lightness and joy on the angel’s face made Dean feel funny inside, kind of happy, but nervous, like he was going to mess it up.

The book was flipped over, held open over the man’s leg. Slow moving hands came towards him. Dean flinched anyway. He was scared. Scared of being dropped, of being held too tight, of the angel breaking his promise.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I’ll be gentle. It’s okay.” The man murmured.

One hand was extended for Dean to step onto, the other for him to hold for balance. It was… surprising. To have a choice in the matter, to go at his own pace. He grabbed onto the balancing hand, stepping onto the other hand. He practically trips over his blanket, but stays standing.

When the man’s hands start moving, Dean’s balance in thrown. He grips the hand tight, expecting to fall, but loose fingers wrap around him. Not enough to actually touch him, but enough that if he even began to fall, he would be caught.

“You are doing so well for me. Thank you for letting me hold you. It is an honor I do not take lightly.”

Dean begins to blush again, fisting his blanket tight, tucking his head down to hide himself.

The angel tucks Dean against his chest. A single supporting hand under his rear, pressing him gently against the warm man.

He feels the giant fingers pet him lightly. Stroking his head and down his back over his protective blanket.

“You are so precious, Dean.” 

He turned into his blanket, hiding himself away from the angel. He was sure his face was red again. 

A new story started, which Dean only half paid attention to. He felt, dare he say, safe. The angel was warm, the soft vibration of his voice was almost as good as the Magic Fingers. Dean let himself relax in the hold. Enjoying the feeling of the thumb sliding back and forth over his back.

It wasn’t until the warmth was suddenly gone that Dean realized that the man intended to put him back in his sleeping dome. Dean whined and choked out a protest.

“Sorry. Were you comfortable?” The angel asks.

“Yeah.” Dean sniffed. He knows he sounds childish, but he had felt like he hadn’t in a long time. Watched over by an angel.

Tucked back against the warm angel’s chest, Dean sighs and rubs his face against the fabric of the man’s shirt.

“Oh, Dean. You are perfect.” The man sounds on the edge of emotional.

Dean looks up to see that same soft smile. A finger or two rubs his hair, feeling better than he thinks it should, but it feels so good just to be _touched_. To be touched and for it not to hurt, for him to not be scared.

“Dean.” The angel started, capturing Dean’s attention. “This may be foreword of me, but I believe that having you in my life would make me very happy. I would like to extend that I want to do my best to make you happy as well. Would you be amenable to coming home to live with me?”

All the relaxation in Dean’s body went out the window.

“Shhh. Shhhh. You don’t have to choose right now. It’s okay.” The fingers pet soothing circles on his back, and pet his hair tenderly, with care. This angel cared if he was happy. That’s more than anyone else had claimed.

“I’m scared.” Dean whispered, not knowing if the angel would be able to hear him.

“I know, baby. That’s okay. I don’t want you to be scared anymore. I want to keep you safe.”

“Really?” At this point, Dean just wants to keep the angel talking. Talking about good things. About how Dean can be good. He wants to be good. 

“Yes, baby. I don’t want to have you hurt ever again.” The angel presses a kiss against Dean’s head.

“I-I-I…” He breaks off in sobs. Why does it feel this good to hear these words? He’s so overwhelmed, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. So he cries.

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay. Let it out. I’m so proud of you. You are so amazing for me. Shhhh. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” The angel whispered, rocking Dean in his arms.

The praises continue until Dean can no longer cry, and even after that. The soft, gentle murmurs and the soothing rubbing on his back and fingers petting his head, calm him down and bring him back to reality.

He rubs his eyes, which sting from crying and releases a yawn that he can’t hold back.

“You are so precious, Dean. You have no idea.”

Dean presses his forehead against the soft warm chest he is being held against. This is so embarrassing. He has never felt so safe. He feels like he might be okay.

He realizes that he’s gotten the man’s shirt wet.

“Sorry.”

“Mmm? What for?” It’s not patronizing. A simple curiosity, spoken.

“I got your shirt dirty.” He said, tracing the wet marks on the thick fabric. He feels like a child, mumbling and too soft-spoken, but the angel heard him.

“That’s nothing to be sorry for. The emotion you have shown me is a true gift. You have a pure soul, Dean. It is most beautiful.”

Dean tucked his face away from the angel, trying to ride out the embarrassment and muster up the courage to speak.

“I… I-um, I would be… happy.” Dean trails off.

“You would be happy?” The man started. “With… me?” He prompted.

Dean couldn’t help the tears that came back to his eyes as he nodded. He felt so ashamed that he couldn’t stop the dam from breaking.

“’m sorry.” He tried to keep his tears at bay, rubbing them away.

“Oh, Dean. You have no idea how wonderful you truly are. You have made me so happy, baby.” 

Fingers brush against his cheek. He can feel the fingerprints against his skin. Looking up, he can see the angel glowing. A wide smile on his face, beaming down at Dean.

The joy in his face made Dean want to squirm, break away, but he just stared. Letting the angel pet his hair as they watched one another. The longer he gazed at the angel, the more sincere the words felt, the more he felt like he could trust the man.

He let his eyes slit, slipping closer and closer to becoming shut. He wanted to keep looking at the angel. To watch the intense eyes look at him like he was special. He could make someone happy. He _wanted_ to make someone happy. And he thinks, that maybe he could be enough to make this angel happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this because I wanted mini!Dean in a dollhouse, but this happened instead.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked this and if you would want to see something like it in the future. Thank you guys!


End file.
